Don't Carry the World Upon Your Shoulders
by Mrs.Cullen0118
Summary: Rylan has lived a life of pain, losing her mother at fourteen years old, working harder than most grownups, and never knowing what a family really felt like. One day the world she knew is turned upside down by an angel by the name of Zachariah, thrown into the world of supernatural watch as Rylan battles through the difficulties that come with being a Winchester.


Don't Carry the World Upon Your Shoulders

"Orders up!" Rylan heard the ding from the kitchen, making her way back once again. It was another double at Custard's diner, even though legally she wasn't supposed to be working this much. But that was a perk of being best friends with the owners daughter. It was tough of course, and she was exhausted 99% of the time. However she needed the money and to prove to the court that she was fully capable of taking care of herself when the time came. Hell, she'd practically been an adult since she was eight years old.

The old chef,Gus wiped the sweat from his forehead. Gus had been working there as long as practically anyone could remember. He loved working for Custards, even if it was a hot mess in the summers. No matter how many fans they put in the damn place the August heat always got the best of Boone, North Carolina. "Only a few more hours, Ry."

Rolling her emerald green eyes she took the trey of food, balancing it on one hand. "And by a few more hours you mean at least another seven?" Rylan chuckled as she made her way back to table number 7. If she was being honest with herself she didn't mind spending her days at the diner. It beat being back at the Jacksons.

The Jacksons were here foster family for the time being. And while they didn't burn her with their smokes, touch her inappropriately, or beat her, they weren't the warm and fuzzy apple pie kind of family. The Jacksons had too many kids of their own to handle two foster kids. It was her and a kid named Oliver Crane. Oliver had never really known what a real home was like, his mother had been a drug addict up until he was four and finally got taken away.

Oliver, or Ollie as he preferred to be called was small, with arms that were too long for his growing body and awkward due to his age and most likely thanks to his mother's drug use while pregnant. He had a mop of blonde hair that hung over his big blue eyes. Over the course of seven months that Rylan had lived with the Jackson family he'd opened up to her, revealing that while he tried to act mature and most thought he was some little punk he was just a twelve year old boy who was lost. Like any other kid coming from a home where love and affection was limited he had his problems. When he got angry it wasn't just a few words thrown around and that was it. They were full on tantrums, screaming, punching and crying came with it. Sometimes she wished she could explode like that, she certainly wanted to just yell until her lungs turned to nothing.

Rylan felt thankful however to have at least known what home felt like. She knew what warm winter nights were like spent by the fire holding a cup of hot chocolate felt like. Or how getting lost after spending the day at the beach was exhausting but resulted in a fit of laughter shared between her and her best friend, her mom. Those memories, holding onto the warmth it brought into her heart were what kept her going every morning and every night. Her mother had created the most loving and providing home, even if she had been a single mother. Not having a father never left Rylan feeling too down. Her mother made up for it in every way she could.

Jocelyn Hazeldine loved her daughter more than anyone in the world, more than anything. Becoming a single mother at seventeen hadn't been on her list of things to do, not one bit. In fact before finding herself crying on the bathroom floor of her family's coffee shop, she had big plans. Jocelyn was going to move out to New York and become a fashion designer, away from the small town life of Shelburne, Massachusetts. That of course didn't happen when she chose to keep her baby despite having to do it almost completely alone. Four months before giving birth her father passed away from a heart attack. Then only a few months after Rylan was born her mother had a mid life crisis, sold the family coffee shop and moved to Europe with her new (much younger) boyfriend. So at eighteen years old Jocelyn figured out how to take care of herself and a newborn all at the same time. And somehow, they got by just fine. There of course had been days when Rylan hadn't stopped crying all night and she'd still have to go to work bright and early, or when she wasn't sure she'd have enough money to pay for her own food. But as Jocelyn's life neared the end she was proud of herself, proud that her daughter hadn't ever gone a day feeling hungry, or cold. As long as that little girl was taken care of, she could die content, not happily, but content. How could she be happy knowing that she wouldn't get to spend the rest of her days watching her only child grow to be the wonderful woman she knew she'd be? But Jocelyn knew that it was worth it in the end, protecting her.

It was days like this that Rylan missed her mother the most, although she couldn't think of a day where she didn't miss her. Losing your only parent and only best friend wasn't something you ever really forgot. Not even for a second. Especially when she wasn't even sure what happened to her. Nobody was really sure what happened to Jocelyn.

Shaking her head and shuddering she couldn't think about that. Not now, not at work. It wasn't the time for a mental breakdown. So Rylan perked up and approached her table. It would be another long day of smiling and working for her tips. The people of Custards weren't always easy to please. Most of the time it was regulars, meaning old grumpy men who didn't like you until they really got to know you. Thankfully at this point she'd been working there long enough to know the men by first, middle and last names as well as any minor detail of their long adventurous lives. And while she couldn't really consider work to be the funnest thing to do, it wasn't the worst thing. The people around her had become her family in a time she needed someone to be family for her.

Her mom was the only family other than the absentee grandmother Rylan truly had. She'd never known her father, the only things her mother had ever told her was his name was Dean Winchester, he was a good man and she looked just like him, from her green eyes, her dirty blonde hair to her freckles covering her nose. But that was about it as to her knowledge when it came to where she came from. She remembered asking about him over and over again as a little girl, wanting to know why everyone else had a daddy and she didn't.

"He rode into town in a shiny black car, it was a really old one that he loved a lot. You could just tell by the way he grinned at it. Anyways, he came in on business, he worked with people and he was good at it. He _literally_ swept me off my feet. Then he left town and I ended up with you as my favorite little gift." It was the same story over and over again a tiny Rylan had asked her mother to tell her at night as she tucked her in.

The dinner hour rolled around, causing all the families whose kids just got out their baseball games, or the parents who were too tired to work over a stove to rush in. Now was usually when most of the younger employees to come in for their small shifts. Mariana sighed sitting down on the bar stool next to Rylan as she tied her apron around her neck. "You work too damn hard girl."

Rolling her eyes at her friend she grabbed two separate trays balancing them in each hand with grace and poise. "Says the girl who makes my schedule."

Chuckling she became serious. "Ry, I'm not joking. If you're too tired, or feel like you're working too much tell me. You are only fifteen."

"I am too tired, and I work too much but I have to Ana, you know I do. Plus, I'll be sixteen soon." Rylan teased with a playful demeanor.

Putting a hand on her friends shoulder Mariana sighed, not finding her friends sense of humor very appropriate for the conversation. "I'm sorry, I wish there was something I could do. Things will get better, I know they will."

Laughing sarcastically Rylan looked up "Only if I have some kind of angel on my shoulder." Bumping the swinging doors with her hips and trays in the air she called out "Freddy, Sherry! Orders up!"

Little did she know her life was going to become a lot more supernatural than she could've ever imagined. But that came with being a Winchester.

Wiping down the table as the last customer left the store Rylan sunk back into the booth, letting her exhaustion finally hit her. Thankfully Gus always stayed late to help clean up with the waitresses, closing up the restaurant for Mariana's family. Tonight it was just the two of them. Closing her eyes for just a moment while waiting for Gus, she figured there was no harm done.

Her mind wondered to the man she knew as her father, or the man she _didn't_ know. With her mother gone it made her curiosity to know him much greater. Was he even alive? Did he know that he had a daughter out in this big world? Did she have any siblings, or a step mom? There were so many things she wanted to know, but knew the likelihood of her ever finding the man was highly unlikely. "Maybe I can find him on the internet?" She spoke out loud to herself.

"You can find practically anyone on the internet." An unfamiliar voice scared her.

Opening her eyes and placing her hand over her heart Rylan turned to get a look at the man behind her. Certainly wasn't anyone from around town. He was dressed in a black suit, clearly some kind of business man probably in his late fifties, maybe even early sixties. The top of his head was shiny, and the remaining hair at the sides of his head were wispy and grey. "How'd you get in? I swear I locked the doors.."

Chuckling he pointed at the door. "Nope, you didn't. Walked right in."

"Oh, well I'm sorry sir but we're closed for the night. We'll be open at six if you wanna stop in for a coffee and some of our famous blueberry muffins." Rylan tried to sound enthusiastic, yet fell just a little short on that bar.

Tilting his head he scrunched up his face as if he was a little kid asking the babysitter to stay up just a few minutes later. "Ah, come on all I want is a coffee. One little coffee won't hurt. Plus I had a hard day at the office."

Not charmed one bit, Rylan agreed to grab the man one cup. Mostly to get him out of her hair, because he was clearly not giving up. "Alright, take a seat at the table over there. How will you take it?"

"Black, Rylan."

Before she could turn towards the back she stopped in her tracks. "H..how'd you know my name?"

Grinning a little too suspect he furrowed his eyebrows. "It's on your name tag, duh."

"Right.." Something about this random man wasn't sitting right with her. She hated to judge people but this man seemed a little off to her.

Rounding the corner to the kitchen she looked over to Gus. "There's some guy here, I couldn't refuse him so I told him we'd get him some coffee."

Peaking his head over the stone counter tops Gus looked to the red corner booth at the man sitting there contently staring at the booth across from him. "I'll serve him, stay away from that creep."

Gus had always acted protective of her, ever since she'd started working seven months ago. He'd seen a girl who carried too much on her shoulders for such an innocent soul. And without a father in her life she needed some guidance and protection from the world. "You know I can take care of myself, Gus."

Ruffling the young girl's hair he kissed the top of her head. "I know you can, but that doesn't mean you should have to kiddo. You finish up back here and then I'll bring ya home."

Smiling she thought of how thankful she was to have so many great people working with her. "Alrighty Gus." Hugging him she took off her apron, hanging it on the hook. "Thanks for everything, really."

Scrubbing away the grease remaining on the grill she wasn't focused on the man sitting in the booth. She'd let the weariness of the customer from earlier go, and was barely thinking of him at this point. All Rylan wanted to go was go home and sleep, get a few hours before Juliana would come bouncing in her room asking for chocolate milk and toast. And then she'd be cleaning the house, and that'd be the start of her day. Always bright and early, and always ended late and exhausted. Such a routine life she lived.

Her focus was distracted by the sudden flash of light coming from the seating area of Custards. It was unusually bright, but small. Along with it she heard the distinct screams of Gus. Rushing out towards the seating she grabbed a knife, not sure if she was about to stab someone. She wasn't even sure what the hell was going on with this light.

Seeing the sight stopped Rylan in her tracks, it wasn't something she thought she'd come across, although she wasn't sure what to expect with the bright white light. The man had his hand pressed against Gus' forehead, simply pressing on it, nothing else. The light was coming from his face, burning through his eyes, nose and mouth. "Gus!"

When the light ran out, the strangers hand moved away from his body allowing it to fall to the ground. His limp body didn't fall in slow motion like it did in the movies, it fell fast and hard with a giant clash. "What the hell did you do!?"

Smugly the man adjusted his tie, chuckling. "Doesn't matter what I did, alls that matter is what _you're_ gonna do for me. Well, more like do for the world."

Holding the dead body of Gus in her arms she sobbed. "Leave me alone, you..you monster!" Monster couldn't even describe him, or what he was. "What are you?"

"I'm an angel, well more specifically an archangel." He stated as if it were a casual thing. "The names Zachariah by the way."

Shaking in disbelief and horror Rylan couldn't help but start laughing. The entire thing was ridiculous. It was clearly a dream, thats the only reasonable explanation. She'd fallen asleep while wiping down the tables. Dropping Gus's dead body she reached her hand up, pinching her arm. However, nothing around her changed. Nothing. Gus was still laying limp and dead on the linoleum floors of Custard's diner, the strange man who claimed to be an archangel named Zachariah was still standing with superiority over her. "This, it's not a dream?"

Shaking his head as he shrugged his shoulders rolling his eyes, Zachariah chuckled. "Nope, not a dream kiddo. It's all quite real. Now lets get going before your father runs off."

As if she couldn't be anymore confused than she was, Rylan scooted further from Zachariah. "I'm not going anywhere with you, you don't know what you're talking about."

"I know _exactly_ what I'm talking about, Rylan. Your father is Dean Winchester, and we're taking you to him." As much as she protested, trying to get further away from him, he somehow still was able to place his fingers on her forehead just as he did with Gus.

Expecting some kind of burning sensation to curse through her body, Rylan braced herself for death. She didn't expect to feel weightless, as if she were existing but nothing at the same time. It was just for a moment, not even a second. Too quick. Then her feet were back on the ground, but not the familiar linoleum floors, instead was found standing on the wood paneled floors. Rylan braced herself for wherever it was Zachariah took her.

Rather than being surrounded by torture devices, creepy sewage stained cement walls, and a chair in the corner ready with ropes, it was a house. While it wasn't a white picket fenced house with a golden retriever hanging by the pool boy, it was a house. A messy one at that, newspapers, books and blood spewed all through what Rylan assumed was once the living room. There had to of been some kind of fight or even a murder that couldn't of happened too long ago. To her side, each holding one of her arms were two men in suits. Zachariah faced three men who were in front of them.

There was something about the men that pulled Rylan to them, there presence didn't give off the eery vibe that Zachariah did. She couldn't describe the sense of familiarity she felt looking at them. The lighting in the room was low and dark, creating shadows on their faces. Either way she couldn't really study them as the archangel didn't wait on speaking with the men. "Thought we'd find you here." Looking back at her he chuckled. "Playtime's over, Dean. Time to come with us."

Pointing to her Dean furrowed his eyebrows, not recognizing the girl at all. "First off, you just keep your distance, asshat. Second, what the hell does she have to do with any of this. She's just a civilian."

Letting out a barreling laughter Zachariah pointed back and fourth between her and Dean. "Are you kidding me, Dean? I mean have you _even looked_ at this kid? Not the brightest Winchester are you."Snapping his fingers the henchmen brought her forward. "Take a good look at her and tell me what you see. You too Sam, you _are_ the smart one after all." Without moving too close to the angel and the girl he studied her facial features. She was at least fifteen, maybe even sixteen. Trying to really understand what Zachariah was saying he looked at her face trying to think of any memory, possibly even hunt where he'd ran into her. He knew her green eyes, they were so familiar with the freckles spewed across her nose and cheeks. But for the life of him, Dean Winchester couldn't figure out who the girl was. "Alright since you're too stupid to figure it out, it's your daughter. Yup, that's right congratulations daddy, it's a girl. Her names Rylan."

Both Rylan and Dean scrunched up their noses, green eyes squinting. "What?" They said in unison, then for the the first time locking eyes. Now knowing what to look for, they couldn't deny the similarities shown in their faces. And while she wanted to drop everything and ask him every question she'd thought of over the past ten years, they were in a strange situation she didn't think she'd ever find herself in. While the sane part of her was denying everything that was happening including Zachariah claimed to be an archangel and had somehow brought her to her father, how could she denying what was right in front of her. She did already trying waking up, that clearly didn't work.

Dean had been with _plenty_ of women through the years and couldn't deny there had been women whose names he couldn't even remember. And despite his carelessness in who they were he always made sure to be careful. _Always._ Studying her face again he tried to remember out of all the women he'd been through if any stood out in her face. Jocelyn Hazeldine. Her full lips and light brown hair were a spitting image of her mothers, while he could see their matching qualities. She had his crooked nose, his big bright green eyes and freckles. "What the hell is she doing here, what does she have to do this this apocalypse bullshit that you assholes jumpstarted by the way?"

Pushing Rylan back towards the henchmen he began pacing back and fourth. "Maybe we let it happen. We didn't start anything. Right Sammy?" He looked to him winking, then back to Dean. "You had the chance to stop your brother, and you couldn't. So let's not quibble over who started what. Let's just say it was all our faults and move on. Cause like it or not, it's the apocalypse and we're all on the same team again."

"Is that so?" Dean uttered, keeping and eye on the henchmen holding Rylan.

Nodding he looked up, shrugging his shoulders as he did so. "You want to kill the devil." Pointing to himself and the two behind him he continued. "We want you to kill the devil. It's…synergy."

Rolling his eyes he retorted "And I'm just supposed to trust you? Cram it with walnuts, ugly."

Wagging his finger Zachariah shook his head "This isn't a game, son. Lucifer is powerful in ways that defy description. We need to strike now, hard, and fast before he finds his vessel."

Trying to snake her arm away from either one of the men Rylan shook hrt head frantically as the tears began to spew from her eyes. "I want to go home, you're all crazy."

Waving his hand behind him the archangel made a sour face. "Just like your father, talk to much." When Rylan went to speak she couldn't, it was like her voice has disappeared. No matter how hard she tried to scream at the top of her lungs nothing came out. So she was now without a voice and use of her arms. "Now, I was talking."

"What the hell did you do to her?" Dean asked with a hint of protectiveness over the young girl who'd he just learned was his daughter.

As if it were nothing he continued "When and if Lucifer gets his vessel we're talking the Four Horsemen, red oceans, fiery skies, the greatest hits. You can stop him Dean, but you need our help."

While he hadn't been calm in any way in days, especially since the angels touched down Deans demeanor changed. His face began turning red, and ever so slightly if you looked close enough you could see his body shaking just a little. Pointing his finger as he stared down Zachariah "You listen to me, you two-faced douche. After what you did, I don't want jack squat from you!" It sent chills down Rylan's spine as she listened to his words, low and powerful. She was genuinely scared and couldn't see how everyone else wasn't shaking with fear.

More pissed off than before as if it were possible, Rylan swore she saw smoke coming from Zachariah's ears. "You listen to me, boy! You think you can rebel against us? As Lucifer did?" He stopped although he clearly had much more to say but his eyes found their way to the blood dripping from Dean's hands. "You're bleeding."

Complacently he smiled up at him "Oh yeah-a little insurance policy in case you dicks showed up."

Everyone else in the room clearly knew what that meant. "No!"

Turning swiftly but not too cockily, Dean pulled the off white sliding door out to reveal an unfamiliar sigil drawn out in blood. He pressed his blood stained hand against the sigil sending out a similar white light as the one Rylan had seen earlier. As the three angels disappeared the pressure from the death grip the two men had kept on her was gone, and a sudden weight that was missing reappeared in her throat. Finally when the room was cleared of any supernatural being she fell to the ground in relief and exhaustion.

Knowing they were safe for a least a few more minutes Dean turned his attention to her. He rushed over eyes wide with fear as he watched her trying to catch her balance on the counter. "Hey, hey, hey. You're alright kiddo."

Laughing nervously as the panic began to set in she placed one hand on his shoulder and the other balancing her on the filth ridden floors. "I was just working one minute and the next minute Gus is dead and this guy is telling me he's an angel and he's taking me to my dad. I mean my dad! I'm fifteen years old and I've never met him, I guess that's you. Normally I'd be much more sane and not take the word of a stranger, but this whole ordeal has been much stranger so I actually believe him. Don't get me wrong I genuinely want to get to know you, there's nothing I've dreamed of more in my life but I'm immensely scared and would like to get back to my old life even if it did suck a lot." She spoke all too fast stuttering and choking on her words fighting back the tears she wanted to let fall but wouldn't.

Parenting wasn't something that was all that new to Dean Winchester. Although Sam was his brother he'd taking care of his brother since he was old enough to reach the stove. It was never easy yet the job wasn't as hard as it was when it came to his own kid. If it were a simpler day and not the start of the apocalypse the whole ordeal would've been easier to handle. For the moment he looked up to his little brother, hoping he'd know what to do.

Bending down to his brother and Rylan's level Sam inhaled thinking quick. "Rylan, I know that this is all scary and we get that you're freaking out. But what Dean just did won't keep those angels away forever. We promise to explain everything once we get somewhere safe, so for now you gotta come with us." He extended his hand out for her to grab onto. She wasn't a little kid who they could easily nurture into trusting them, she wasn't stupid and had clearly seen a lot. Biting her lip she thought on the idea of trusting these strangers for a moment. Calming down, inhaling in and exhaling out Rylan reached out to take his hand. Offering up a generous comforting smile Sam slowly started standing up. "I'm Sam, Dean's brother."

Trying to get out of her comfort zone as much as she didn't want to Rylan chuckled timidly. "So you're the good guys?"

Nodding he pointed to he, Dean and Chuck. "Yeah, most of the angels are the bad guys. But we know a few good ones, but promise we won't let them get to you again."

In an instant Rylan's entire world had been flipped upside down once again, but this time it was going at a million miles an hour. There was no time to sit down and think about things instead she felt as if she was in one of those high speed action movies. Shaking her head and closing her eyes for a moment Rylan stood up straight. "Alright, I trust you guys."

Against everything her morals screamed at her Rylan found herself falling asleep in the backseat of _the_ shiny black car that she'd heard about so many times in her childhood. She wanted to believe it was all the truth however a part of her struggled to allow her walls to break down. All of it still seemed so unreal. Not only for her, but Dean and Sam as well. Once the young girl was calmed down enough to stand on her own both boys turned towards the profit. "Chuck, did you know about her?"

Scrunching his nose and tilting his eye he awkwardly avoided eye contact. "Well, I..uhh."

Rubbing his hand across his forehead Dean groaned in annoyance. "Really, Chuck! You couldn't of told me the freakin' angels were after the kid I didn't even know was out there. We could've figured out how not to get her involved." This was the last thing he wanted for her. He finally understood why Mary had been so against having her children be raised as hunters.

The car ride to find a simple motel was spent in silence, seeing the young girl who clearly needed some rest especially knowing if she was sticking around sleep would come scarcely.

Rylan was peaceful asleep in the other room, as the boys relaxed in the other room connected by the door. He may have not known much about teenage girls, but he did know she probably wanted her space after having a day like today. He could've used some space after everything that happened. But he was the adult here and had to be strong enough for the three of them.

"You think they're lying?" Sam pondered the idea that the girl in the next room was not in fact who they'd been told she was.

Sighing Dean took his head in his hands, leaning over staring at the ground. "No, she's mine. We both know that."

Nodding he knew there was no denying that she was his brother's twin. There was even a hint of their mother in her features. "Alright. So what do we do next?"

"Like I'm supposed to know, man." He began laughing without any sense of humor to it. There was nothing funny about the situation he found himself in. "We gotta get her back to her mother, this..this isn't a place for a kid. We both get that." Dean had never imagined being a father, it wasn't something he ever thought would happen living the life he did. Now that his child was literally just thrown into his life at fifteen years old there was no doubts that he wanted this.

Neither noticed Rylan standing in the doorway between the two rooms, her head leaning on the frame staring at them longingly. "My moms dead, she has been for the past seven months."

"Oh, I'm sorry, kiddo." Dean didn't really know what to say considering he knew the pain and loss of a parent. It changed you, especially knowing she had been parentless for almost an entire year now. "How'd she die?"

Her eyes shifted to the floor, avoided eye contact. "They think it was some kind of animal, her body was found in the woods by our house." Obviously wanting to drop it she quickly changed the subject coming over to the table where the two sat. "Is there any way..I could maybe get something to eat?"

However neither Sam or Dean wanted to drop it, they had so many questions and so many ideas as to what could've happened to Jocelyn. Yet they both refrained from asking those personal strange questions they often asked grieving families. "So where do you live?"

Scrunching her nose she huffed "I'm technically a ward of the state, since none of my family could be tracked down I'm in foster care. The Jacksons are my family right now, but they honestly probably haven't noticed I'm missing yet."

Hearing his child had been with a foster family killed him, it reminded him briefly of his time at Sonny's home. But from the sound of it _The Jacksons_ weren't remotely as friendly as Sonny's had been. "Ah, wow. You've been through quite a bit, huh?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle." She was definitely a Winchester.


End file.
